A Flame Dies
by Dawnbright75.Aracalima
Summary: My third SecretClan challenge. Leopardleap of ThunderClan never meant to have a mate, so when he finds Swiftheart of WindClan with their kit, his world spins out of control.


A Flame Dies

The warriors of Silverpelt shone brightly above the ThunderClan camp. Leopardleap lay in his nest of moss and feathers, watching the other warriors as they fell into sleep. He waited. Fernflower and Brackenpelt, two new warrior chatted endlessly. They think they're still apprentices, he thought grumpily. Why can't they just grow up?

Finally, all was quiet. Leopardleap silently got to his paws and slunk out of the den. Sandfang was on duty guarding the camp, her pale golden pelt still in the moonlight. Leopardleap nervously slipped out through the dirt tunnel. After squeezing through the brambles, he was off, racing toward WindClan's moors. He felt closer to StarClan here, and wondered if he'd be under better protection here than in ThunderClan. He shook the thought away. You're already breaking the warrior code, he chided to himself. Don't lose your honor completely!

She was there, just as they had planned the first time they had met, although she had not been there the moon before. Swiftheart's ginger pelt reminded him of flames in the night, an her green eyes were like venom that matched the fire. But despite her malicious looks, her heart was something to treasure. A smile in the venom lit the night, and forced Leopardleap into a run.

"Leopardleap," she breathed, her voice smelling of heather and honey. "I've missed you so much. I'm sorry I wasn't at the last Gathering."

Leopardleap nuzzled her. "It's fine. I hope everything was okay," he whispered. He remembered longing for Swiftheart at the last full-moon Gathering, worrying because she wasn't there. "I've really missed you, too."

"Everything was wonderful," Swiftheart told him, laughing. "And I've brought someone I think you should meet."

Leopardleap stiffened. Had she betrayed him by bringing along a clanmate? He watched suspiciously as she disappeared behind some long grasses, and came back carrying a small fiery bundle. The night wind suddenly went cold as he felt the sleeping sun shining on his heart, melting it. "He's ours, isn't he," Leopardleap purred softly. "Our little warrior."

To his surprise, Swiftheart didn't smile. "I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I never meant for this to happen. We've broken the warrior code, Leopardleap, we've broken it twice. I can't keep him. They'll find me out soon, Leopardleap. Please, take our son and keep him safe."

He glanced down at the kit—their kit. "I can't produce milk," he whispered.

"No, but a ThunderClan queen can," Swiftheart persisted.

"Why can't you take him?" Leopardleap spat in an outburst of anger. "What kind of she-cat are you, dumping the kits you gave birth to on me?"

The WindClan cat flinched. "I thought you might like him. I thought you might name him Firekit, and raise him as a loyal ThunderClan warrior. Don't punish our son just because of me and my actions."

Leopardleap swallowed a lump in his throat. Swiftheart was right. How could he abandon this innocent little fur ball? "All right," he muttered. He looked up with sorrow in his eyes. "I still love you, Swiftheart. I'll never forget you. I'll make Firekit the best warrior in ThunderClan in your honor."

"That's sweet of you," Swiftheart murmured. "But I have no honor. Not anymore." She blinked sadly at the poor tom that once was her mate before fleeing back to her own camp.

Leopardleap stared down at the kit. "Firekit," he murmured. "Just like your mother. Come back to ThunderClan with me, my little warrior."

He picked up the mewling kit by his scruff and hurried back to ThunderClan, occasionally glancing over his shoulder as if warriors of the moors chased him, mistaking Firekit for one of their own. He scuttled through the dirtplace tunnel, ignoring the stench that soured his nose. He had to get to the nursery and drop the kit in before the clan was awake. Sticking to the shadows like ticks to an elder's pelt, he snuck into it he queens' and kits' domain.

Leopardleap stopped short. There was only one queen in the nursery, and her kits were being made apprentices any day now. There were no other she-cats expecting kits that he knew of, and he certainly wouldn't give away his secret, any more than he could produce milk. He dropped the kit in the moss. He could always just leave him here, and hope his clan would accept him. He would fight on his son's behalf for as long as he lived and longer.

Or he could send him to live with Twolegs who would take him in and care for him. He bristled at the bought of a Clan-born cat—his kin—turning soft, eating the pellets kittypets were fed, and wearing a collar with a bell that scared all the prey away. His blood would remain wild, though. Leopardleap took a deep breath, and picked up his tiny fire. There was still time before dawn.

He left before the queen, Frostleaf, awoken. He moved all the faster as her white pelt squirmed and she muttered in her sleep. His own kit was whining, begging for milk.

"Mama," he whimpered sleepily. "I'm hungry. I want milk." His kicking legs made Leopardleap struggle to carry him.

"Hush, Firekit," Leopardleap whispered, not wanting him to forget who he was; he would be named again by Twolegs. "We're going on an adventure."

"I don't want an adventure!" Firekit wailed. "I want milk!"

It's interesting he's not afraid of me, Leopardleap mused, And that he didn't cry out when Swiftheart gave him up. "I'm going to get some milk," he continued, "Now be quiet and hush."

He trudged through the undergrowth, his legs moving as if through honey. His heart burned under the acid that held the truth: he could not keep this kit. A tall, wood fence loomed ahead in the paling night. As he soared through the air, he had the sensation of drowning.

The unnatural short grass that was unnaturally green met his paws. Leopardleap's mind buzzed as if a hive of bees swarmed inside of it. He lapped his kit's head one last time. "Firekit, I love you," he rasped hoarsely, wanting his son to hear those words before he never saw him again. He was spinning out of control, dizzy and blinded by pain. He never meant to become mates with Swiftheart; it just happened. He never meant to have forbidden love; it just forced itself into his life. He never wanted to give up his kin. That just happened by fate as well. Leopardleap fled, stumbling over tree roots and stones.

A ginger she-cat padded out of the Twoleg nest, a gold bell tinkling under a gray sky. She froze when she spotted Firekit. "Abandoned, are you?" she murmured. "I have my own kits inside the house. I can take you in, and I won't let my owners take you away. You're named Jake."

The fiery kit mewed once, and the she-cat jumped back. The awful sound was a replica of a dying mouse. Then she nudged the kit inside nest as the flaming sun rose above the Clans.


End file.
